


Force, you sleep so softly

by Procrassination



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, M/M, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Or not, Poor Obi-Wan Kenobi, Stream of Consciousness, it's up to you, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:07:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24037864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Procrassination/pseuds/Procrassination
Summary: Obi-Wan was weightless in meditation.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 119





	Force, you sleep so softly

Anakin thinks, Obi-Wan and he are so different sometimes, that it’s a wonder that they managed to work so well together.

Where Anakin shines bright, brighter than any star could hope to shine, his soul singing with the force; Obi-Wan is a warm glow, the softness not dissimilar to that of the gentle lapping of a stream after light showers. Always there, but not always to the forefront, but nonetheless a comfort to any parched traveller.

Perhaps, thinks Anakin, that’s why they work so well. Where Obi-Wan can fade into the background, move around without being noticed in a way Anakin could never even begin to hope to achieve any semblance of; Anakin shines bright, draws the attention of the room without ever really trying. He remembers Padme laughing, telling him that he shines as bright as the sun, and is twice as obnoxious. He’d like to disagree; but looking around him; they way the locals of this backwater planet cannot seem to draw their attention from him for more than short bursts every now and then, he would most likely have to give Padme some credit to her belief.

He realises, shortly, that he’s lost Obi-Wan; again. His old master, no matter how much attention Anakin attempted to embellish Obi-Wan in, had always seemed to find some way to shake it off. He wonders, not for the first time, what made him so proficient in it. Is it him, in his apprenticeship under Obi-Wan that led the other to have a knack for disappearing, or something before; his old master, or perhaps, something even before them? Sometimes the frustration he feels towards the other is palpable.

Anakin sets off with determination this time, to help Obi-Wan out of whatever trouble he has most likely found himself in. The way the unifying force surrounds the other, it wouldn’t be surprising to find Obi-Wan attempting some sort of convoluted rescue of some poor sentient he believed to be in trouble; it certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

From the ways Obi-Wan had spoken of his late master; in their younger years, when Anakin had barely crested the age of a teen, he believed that Obi-Wan would try his damned hardest to avoid the plight of any “pathetic lifeforms”, as he once admitted calling Anakin upon Qui-Gon mentioning that they would be returning with another; granted, at the time Obi-Wan hadn’t actually realised that it would be something with relative intelligence, but he digresses. He reckons, that it wasn’t as much Qui-Gon picking up these lives as it was Obi-Wan directing his late master to do so. He’d always had the ability to manipulate those around him to do the things he wanted, even if it wasn’t always intentional. Not that he’d ever tell the man that. No need for him to worry over such insignificant things. No need to let him know that the only reason he’d eaten his greens when he was younger was thanks to Obi-Wan’s gentle nudges, either.

See, Anakin thinks to himself, as he ducks under some low hanging branches of the surrounding grove, following the gentle feel of Obi-Wan’s presence in the force; he can be subtle, he can keep secrets, no matter what Obi-Wan wanted to believe!

Finally seeing the man, copper hair flowing in the gentle breeze of the planet, Anakin takes a moment to admire. The soft of his hair, against the rough, earthiness of his robes, the way he imagines his face to be, deep in meditation, though directed away from him, he can picture the way the galaxy’s troubles melt away from his Obi-Wan’s face and body the further he slips into the meditative trance. The way he has seen so often before, the way the man’s face returns to its youth that its wearer always seemed so desperate to escape from.

Approaching his Obi-Wan, he wonders what his own face must look like, if the greed shows on his face, like so many of his other emotions before. He wonders, if Obi-Wan were to open his eyes now, he’d know that Anakin would never allow another than himself to see Obi-Wan in a state so vulnerable and peaceful; or if he’d confuse it for something else, as he was oft to do in the case of Anakin and himself. Anakin had often wondered just what had led him to a point where he couldn’t believe that any thoughts of possession or care and love could ever be directed to him; but he doubts that Obi-Wan would ever reveal. His old master was entitled to his own secrets, no matter how much they led Anakin to a point of frustration.

Closing the distance, he sat beside the other man, pressing a soft kiss to the copper locks, breathing in the scent that was just so _Obi-Wan_. The other didn’t even stir, so deep into his meditation and so used to his once apprentice’s presence, that he was most likely content to float in his own thoughts and feelings whilst Anakin lay beside him, admiring the comfort that was his Obi-Wan.

Oh, how he loved him.


End file.
